Page 11 of Deceived by the Highlander (Daughters of the Isle #2)

“I wasn’t with him. I don’t know what happened, Lady Freyja, but he looked.

..” he hesitated, unwilling to tell her how her grandfather had looked the last time he’d seen him.

But she held his gaze, and he knew she wouldn’t appreciate it if he tried to coat his words in honey to protect her sensibilities.

With reluctance, he added, “As though his strength had seeped from him.”

“I should never have left him.”

“Ye weren’t to know,” he said. “He’s in good hands. His physician is attending to him.”

“Aye, with his damn leeches, no doubt.” Freyja cast her sister a frustrated glance before looking back at him, and he recalled Miles’ caustic comment that he trusted Freyja’s opinion more than he trusted the physician’s.

But bleeding was common practice. What else was there to do?

Freyja took him to the high table and indicated he should sit next to her as she took her place beside Lady Helga. Her sister sat on the other side of their grandmother, and servants carried platters ladened with food to the tables, along with jugs of ale and wine.

He hadn’t realized how famished he was until the cold meat pies, bannocks, and a variety of fruits were spread before him. As he speared his knife into a generous slice of venison pie, he cast a sideways glance at Freyja, who was listlessly buttering a bannock.

She was concerned about Ranulph. Hell, so was he, but talking about her grandfather would only cause her worry to rise, and there was nothing they could do about it while they remained on Eigg.

He wanted to see her smile again, to distract her with lighthearted banter, even if it lasted for only a few moments. He swallowed his mouthful of pie and nodded to the tapestry-covered wall to their left.

“Sgur Castle is fine indeed. I can see why ye’re reluctant to leave, even if ye do happen to fall for a man not of the Isles.”

Her sudden smile was like a ray of sunlight, and he could scarcely believe such a bizarre notion had crossed his mind. How strong was Sgur’s ale? But he already knew the answer.

It wasn’t the ale that caused him to imagine such a nonsensical vision like a green youth. It was Freyja herself.

“The castle is my home. But that’s not the reason why I’ll never leave Eigg.”

He recalled their conversation on the beach of Rum. “The legacy of yer foremothers. I confess I’m still intrigued by this. I’ve never encountered such a thing before.”

“Ye’ve never encountered women who hold onto their legacy with such determination, ye mean? For I’m certain ye know plenty of men who would fight to the death to preserve the legacy of their forefathers.”

He had to concede she was right. “’Tis not the same thing, though.”

She jabbed her half-eaten bannock in his direction. “Give me one good reason why it’s not the same.”

It was galling that he couldn’t come up with an instant rebuttal. “Because it’s not.”

“What of Queen Mary? Does she not fight for her legacy?”

How in the name of God had they managed to bring the Queen into the conversation? He had no idea, but one thing was certain: Talking with Freyja was anything but tedious. “The Queen tends to do as she pleases.”

And how. Last year she’d all but disowned the Earl of Argyll when he’d voiced disapproval of her intention to wed the Earl of Lennox’s son, Lord Darnley.

But now Darnley was out of favor, and the Earl of Argyll was once again the Queen’s favorite and likely to be present at her impending confinement.

“Aye, well, I am not a great royalist, but I admire her for standing up against all those who oppose her choices.” Freyja paused, before adding, “Even if her choices are hard to fathom.”

He was a royalist to the marrow of his bones, and was of the opinion the Queen had lost her senses when it came to some of her choices. “I confess I’m not clear on what point ye’re attempting to make.”

“My point,” Freyja jabbed her bannock at him again and he struggled not to laugh when a piece dropped off the end and landed on the table, “is she fights for the right to continue the legacy of her forebears. ’Tis not her fault they were all foolish men, which has given her an unfortunate disadvantage. ”

“The only disadvantage is she was not the son her father hoped for.”

“Again, not her fault. Now, if the crown went through the female line, things would be very different.”

“Very,” he said with feeling. “That’s not the natural order of things, my lady.”

“Ye poor misguided soul.” She shook her head in apparent sorrow, although her gaze was warm. “’Twas the natural order of the Pict royal houses, ye know.”

Finally, he understood where her intriguing beliefs came from. “The legacy ye told me about when we were on Rum. Were yer foremothers Picts?”

“Indeed. We are descended from the fierce Pict queen who once ruled this isle with her women warriors.”

“Nine hundred years ago?” He couldn’t help the skepticism in his voice, despite how her tale fascinated him. “Do ye really believe her warriors were women?”

“The history was handed down from her daughter to her granddaughter. Now I grant ye, perhaps I don’t believe there were lights on the sea, but we are bound to the great queen, nonetheless.”

“Lights on the sea?” Pie forgotten, he gazed at her, entranced. “Was this queen a sorceress?”

She scoffed. “There are no such things as sorceresses, Alasdair. But ’tis said she was a powerful druid who rejected the new religion when the monks came to Eigg.

After she and her warriors slaughtered the intruders in their monastery, they went to the beach of the singing sands and saw the lights dancing on the sea.

But ’twas likely just the reflection of the moon on the waves. ”

“They slaughtered the monks?”

“Of course.” She sounded so matter-of-fact, as though it was no great shock that a group of women would do such a thing.

But then, it likely hadn’t happened. These were merely legends that had been handed down for almost a thousand years.

No wonder the story was so fantastical. “And I’ll tell ye plainly,” she added, “I’ve never understood why such a formidable warrior as that queen would lead her faithful warriors into the sea. I cannot fathom it.”

“Did they catch those mysterious lights on the sea?” He couldn’t see how, but he was invested in this tale now.

She flashed him a mocking smile. “Don’t be daft. They all drowned.”

He grinned at the unexpected end to her story. “All of them? Are ye sure?”

“Well, no, clearly at least her daughter survived, so she could pass her mother’s knowledge down to her own daughter. Sea lights aside, our Pict queen ancestor was very real and her blood flows in our veins to this day.”

“’Tis a fascinating history. But I don’t see why ye must remain on Eigg because of it. Yer Pict queen warrior will never be forgotten as long as her story is told.”

Her smile wavered as though he’d overstepped, which was the last thing he’d wanted. But before he could make amends, she sighed.

“I know. But that isn’t the reason. We’re bound to this land by the word of our foremothers. And the truth is, even if we weren’t, I shouldn’t wish to leave. I’m happy here at Sgur.”

Regret twisted through him at the wistful note in her voice. He didn’t want to be the cause of her unhappiness, but the only way to ensure his own invulnerable future was if they wed.